


Nobody's Fault

by blueorchidboy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, bucky comes out okay, everything is fine at the end dont worry im not that asshole, heavy shit, its okay it ends alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-05 20:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15178346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueorchidboy/pseuds/blueorchidboy
Summary: Bucky hasn't been okay in a long time. Sitting here in a mental hospital is hardly making things better, but things will probably end up alright. He thinks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not an especially competent writer, but I figure my problem is that I always write about shit I know nothing about. So I figure why not write about stuff I actually know about? This story is fiction, all the extra little characters and the mental hospital is just some shit I made up. I won't reveal what it's based off of, and it may not be like this at every mental hospital. This is all based on personal experience or things I have witnessed firsthand. I have a limited view of things, so really this is just based on my perspective. Don't come for me if it's not the same experience you had.
> 
> Note: MHA stands for Mental Health Assistant (they are not the same as nurses, and kind of work as helpers/nannies ish??? sometimes the kids on the unit call them teachers which i dont get but it kinda makes sense)  
> UR stands for Unit Restriction (you can't leave the unit, meaning you can't go to the cafeteria for meals or go to the gym/ you're basically confined to your bedroom and the therapy room

“James Barnes. Depression, PTSD, and increased anger? Is that correct?”

He nods mutely.

“Okay James, let me just get your vitals and then you’ll have to go through assessment. But you should have a room by tonight.”

“It’s Bucky.”

“Huh?”

“My name. It’s Bucky.”

“Okay sweetie.”

The nurse turns and walks away, leaving him alone in the small room to soak in his thoughts. This isn’t the first time he’s been to a mental hospital, but it's been a long time. And he’s never been to Mountain View, but it seems pretty similar to the other ones he’s been too. It’s kind of unstructured and the check-in process is taking forever, but that’s nothing new.

Assessment is kind of a blur. It feels like it takes forever, but after it’s done Bucky feels like he just had a weird, kind of vague dream. It’s midnight now, and he’s sitting on the stiff couch watching cartoons on the tiny tv mounted in a protective box on the wall when Steve comes in.

“Oh my god Bucky.” The look on his face is one of concern.

Bucky doesn’t respond, only looking at Steve. He doesn’t have the energy to do much else. At this point, he hasn’t slept more than half an hour in 48 hours and his nerves are keeping him up longer. Steve doesn’t say anything else, just sits next to him and wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him into his warm embrace.

After a few minutes Steve breaks the silence.

“I brought some stuff for you.”

Bucky only nods, content to bury himself into Steve’s side and hide from the world.

“Just some clothes and stuff. A few books. And some soap and shampoo and conditioner, and some deodorant.”

There is a muffled “Thank you.” from where Bucky has nuzzled himself into Steve’s side. He looks so small right now, curled up next to him. Steve’s heart twists painfully at the sight. He knows Bucky has been to hospitals like this before, but this time seems different. He’d thought Bucky was okay, good even. It kind of feels like a failure on his part. A failure to notice the signs because, now that he thinks about it, there were signs. A failure to be there for him. A failure to love him in the way he needed. Steve really wants to voice those concerns, but now isn’t the time, judging by the way Bucky is holding onto him so tightly right now. So they just sit, content in that moment just to hold each other. Everything is uncertain and there is so much that needs to be said, but right now, in this moment, all they can do is hold each other and wait.

It’s around 2AM when a nurse comes into the room to collect Bucky. Their goodbyes don’t last long enough, but they are loving and meaningful. They only have time for a chaste kiss and a whispered “I love you” before Bucky is being led away.

Even at 2AM, when the charge nurse has no other duties, the process takes forever. It isn’t until around 3 that he is finally led into his room. He doesn’t really take in his surroundings, just wraps the thin hospital blankets awkwardly around his shoulders and curls up on the stiff mattress.

Bucky doesn’t really sleep much. Over the past two days he had occasionally gotten half an hour or so to nap, but that isn’t nearly enough. Despite how exhausted he is, he can’t get his brain to shut down for long enough to actually sleep. The bright light of the hallway isn’t much help either. So really, he can’t do anything but lie awake and think. He looks back on the events of the day, what led him to come here in the first place.

*** Bucky shifts back and forth on the couch. His therapist is basically staring him down right now, giving him this look that says “what did you do?”  
It wasn’t much, really, maybe, now that he looks back on it, he had been a lot more withdrawn than usual. And his nightmares had been getting worse. Now that he thinks about it more, he notices he hasn’t really slept in a while. Maybe a couple hours here and there, but not enough to sustain him for long. Okay, so maybe something is up. He isn’t really sure what it is, but he spends rest of his 45 minute session working that out.  
Apparently, he’s really fucked up.

“Bucky, you haven’t been having suicidal thoughts again have you?”

He looks down guiltily.

“Hey, Bucky no… it’s not your fault.”

“No- I know, it’s just- I have everything I need to be happy. I’ve got Steve, and our dog, and our apartment and Sam and Natasha… I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Bucky, you know that’s not how it works. You can’t be ashamed of yourself for being depressed, you don’t have to have a reason for this. It’s not on you.”

Bucky only shakes his head, looking down at his feet and allowing his shaggy hair to fall in front of his eyes so that he doesn’t have to meet her eyes.

“Bucky, I have to be sure you won’t try anything.”

Bucky doesn’t respond.

“Bucky, are you going to be okay? Do you think you’re stable enough to continue without more intensive treatment?”

He hesitates, “I don’t know.”

She sighs, “Bucky, you know what I have to do. I can’t just send you home like this.”

Bucky shakes his head, letting out a weak, “please…”

He can feel the pity from her even though he isn’t looking.

“Bucky… I’m going to have to have you brought into a hospital for a little bit. Just until you’re stable.

He wants to fight it, but he knows it’s useless, so he lets her just keep talking, though he’s not really listening. Within an hour, he’s being driven to Mountain View in a cab, and soon is checking himself in. He only barely gets the chance to call Steve to tell him what happened. He’s in another state for work at the moment, but when he hears this he is practically already on a flight back home.  
***

He’s finally able to fall into a fitful sleep, not really dreaming much of anything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a lil light and sappy, but imma warn you the next one's gonna be kinda heavy so prepare yourself.

Bucky didn’t sleep well.

It’s not really a new occurrence, but it’s frustrating nonetheless. Not only had it been freezing in the room, with nothing to warm him but that flimsy hospital blanket and a flat pillow, but a nurse had come in around 5AM to take blood. Why on earth they always choose the worst fucking time to do this shit, Bucky doesn’t know. But it had succeeded in keeping him awake the rest of the night. He only succeeded in getting two hours of sleep, and about an extra half hour before it was 7AM and the world was coming alive around him.

He sits up to finally take in his surroundings. His bedroom is small, with two beds on either side of the room, and a small desk between them, with two shelves on either side of the desk. The walls are painted this kind of ugly beige color and the floor is the same weird rubbery thing that’s meant to look like wood (but really doesn’t) as the rest of the hospital. He looks over at his roommate, who is still sleeping in his bed by the window. The window is frosted, but he can just barely see over the frosted part to look out onto the parking lot. There is a camera in the corner of the room, and a bathroom off to the side, separated from the room only by a plastic white curtain.

Bucky hears a groan from his roommates bed and turns to look at him. He’s kind of short, with dark hair and stubble and stress lines around his face. He looks at Bucky, confused for a moment before some of the sleep falls away and he realizes he got a new roommate.

“Oh hey- I’m Tony. I guess we’re roommates?” He says, getting up and kind of awkwardly spreading his blankets out over his bed that must be him making the bed.

“What’s your name?” He holds his hand out to Bucky.

He doesn’t take it, but answers “Bucky.”

“Well… Okay, welcome to Mountain View. It sucks in here. Good luck.”

Bucky is too tired to be amused, but is grateful for the effort.

“So, Bucky. What are you in here for? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He’s not really sure where to begin. Should he say anything at all? Well, the guy is his roommate. Maybe it would be good to open up.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna say. It’s your business.”

Bucky nods.  
Tony looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t. He just walks past Bucky to the bathroom and calls out, “hey, they have some sheets out by the nurse’s station that you have to fill out every morning, then you gotta do vitals.”

Bucky thanks him quietly, not really sure if Tony heard him, and makes his way down the long hallway to where the sheets are. There are showers running in a couple rooms, and some guys are running back and forth to each other’s rooms. One guy walks past him and says to the rest of the hall, “Ay we got a new guy!”

A few heads poke out of their rooms, but are mostly indifferent. The forms he has to fill are pretty basic. Questions like “how did you sleep?” and “are you having suicidal or homicidal thoughts?” and “are you thinking about self harm?” It doesn’t take him long to fill out, and soon enough he’s hooked up to a machine that’s taking his blood pressure, with a thermometer in his mouth.

Breakfast tastes like shit. Bucky ends up sitting next to Tony, surrounded by some other guys. Bruce, about whom he has quickly learned that, despite his soft appearance and meek demeanor, is angry as fuck. There’s Wade, the same guy who called attention to him earlier that morning. He looks like he’s been through some shit, he’s covered in scars from head to toe. Burn scars and cuts and scratches all over him. Bucky isn’t sure he wants to know what happened to him. Then there’s this kid Pietro. He’s small and flighty, nervous seeming. He can’t be any older than 18 or 19. He’s got incredibly pale skin, and hair to match.

He’s only half listening to the conversation around him, picking at his powdered eggs and what may or may not be sausage. He’s not really sure.

“What about you, Bucky?” Tony says, calling his attention.

“Huh?”

Tony chuckles, “we were talking about our families. You got any?”

The rest of them are looking at him kind of expectantly, except for Pietro, who is looking across the room at some girl who looks eerily similar to him.

Bucky shakes his head, “Nah, they’re all pretty much gone.”

“Damn. That sucks ass,” says Wade.

Bruce kicks him under the table, “what?! It’s true!”

Bucky doesn’t smile, but his eyes glitter with amusement.

“Okay then, do you have anyone special at home? Girlfriend, boyfriend?”

Bucky smiles fondly at the memories of Steve that bubble up.

Tony chuckles, “so you do then. Who are they?”

“More importantly, how nice is their ass? OW! Banner stop kicking me.”

They’re such an odd group of people. He’s known them for approximately 20 minutes, but he already feels welcome.

“His name is Steve.”

Tony grins, glad he could finally get something out of Bucky.

“And? What’s he like?”

He can tell that was the right question when he sees the way Bucky’s eyes light up a bit.

“He’s kind of an idiot. But he’s really sweet. He’s always getting into fights and shit cause he doesn’t know when to shut his mouth, but I like it cause it’s usually because he didn’t like the way someone treated me. Though I could live without all the scrapes and bruises he gets.”

He can tell by the amused looks on the other guys that he’s smiling a little stupidly, but he doesn’t really care.

____

Groups suck. They’re basically just some dumb nurse or an MHA telling you what’s wrong with you for an hour and offering no solution. But Bucky can’t help but like the MHAs who lead the groups. One of them is this really tall, buff guy. He’s got long blonde hair, and is debatably more muscular than steve. His real name is Thor, but everyone just calls him Odinson. Bucky thinks it’s his last name. The other one is a fierce looking woman named Maria Hill. She’s not as kind or outgoing as Odinson, but he can tell by the way she acts around them that she genuinely cares about the wellbeing of the patients. She goes by Maria.

Even if he does like the MHAs, the groups are still boring. After breakfast, he’d had to go get medicine (when he got to the front of the line the med nurse told him they didn’t have his meds yet and to come back tomorrow, which concerned him because that’s really dangerous when you’re on SSRIs). Then group therapy began. He’s been sitting in this same chair for about three hours now, not really paying attention. Sometimes he tunes in to the conversation. Enough to hear about Pietro’s past abuse, and the house fire that had permanently scarred Wade as a kid, then the various other circumstances which led him into addiction and then suicidality. For the most part though, Bucky doesn’t hear them. He remains silent throughout the whole morning, choosing to stare out the window into the concrete patio outside, which is surrounded by four cement walls, each 8 feet high. It’s raining outside, and it brings him back to one of his fondest memories.

***

It’s cold as fuck outside. Definitely not ideal weather for walking around. What the fuck was Steve thinking?

Still, Bucky can’t help the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest as he watches Steve kneel down to talk to a young girl, who is excitedly running her hands through their Cap’s fur. Cap is a stray they picked up one day a few years ago, just before they had started dating. He had shown up one day at their shared apartment, and had just never left. They decided to keep him, and the confident and playful demeanor he had seemed to fit the name Cap. They’d had him ever since. They’re pretty sure he’s a golden retriever, but he has these odd little spots in places on his coat that makes them think he could be part australian shepherd.

Steve gets up to look at Bucky, shooting him a bright smile before falling into step beside him as they walk on. The thick leather jacket he has on isn’t quite enough to keep out the chill of a New York winter, but Steve is walking so close to him that he can feel the heat radiating off of him, so it’s not so bad.

That is, until the skies opened up.

“Oh my god Steve, I told you it was a bad idea to go outside today.”

Steve only laughs and shakes his head, “come on, tell me you didn’t have fun.”

He would, but that’d be a lie. All the times he had with Steve were fun.

“Fine you dick, can we at least get out of the rain, me and Cap are gonna freeze.”

They jog to the nearest pavillion, shaking water off their coats.

They huddle close together, Cap panting happily at their feet for a few moments. Bucky can feel Steve’s eyes on him.

“What?”

“Nothing… I- you’re just-” he sighs, starting over, “I don’t think I could possibly find the right words to describe how much I love you.”

Bucky flushes and shakes his head, “you idiot, shut the fuck up.”

Steve smiles at him fondly, “no really, I mean it. You’re the world to me, Buck. Don’t ever forget it.”

Bucky grins at him.

“I won’t. You and me, ‘til the end of the line right?”

“‘Til the end of the line.”

***

Lunch comes around, and then they have about two hours alone. They aren’t allowed to leave their rooms because of shift change, so he spends that time talking to Tony. There isn’t much to converse about, so they mostly play cards. Tony teaches him how to play a game called Stress (which, true to its name, is fucking stressful). And they sit in comfortable silence for most of that time.

Eventually, Tony starts to talk, “So… Steve huh? You really like him.”

Bucky can feel the grin spread across his face, “yeah, I do. He’s kind of the best. What about you? You got anyone like that?”

Tony brightens up a bit, “yeah, my fiance, Pepper. I love her so much, I’d do pretty much anything for her. Though I would never tell her that, she’d probably make me do something crazy just to prove it.”

Bucky knows exactly how he feels.

___

Dinner is debatably less disgusting than breakfast. They’ve got fish and mashed potatoes, and some pasta. He’s fairly certain it’s just leftovers, but at least it’s not powdered eggs.

After that, they watch cartoons on the tv until it’s time for bed, and then it’s back to bed to lay awake. Tony falls asleep pretty quickly, so he’s got no one to talk to in the meantime. It takes him an hour, but he does eventually drift off. He misses Steve, and he misses Cap. He just wants to go back to their cozy little apartment in Brooklyn and curl up next to Steve and sleep for like three days. He just wants to go home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm warning you that this chapter does get a little triggering. Again, I'm certain not all mental hospitals are like this, or would have situations like this, this is based solely on things that have happened to me, or that I've witnessed firsthand. There is a bit about self harm that gets graphic, so I put these markers // surrounding it for anyone that wants to skip over it. (for example //I had lunch today.//) The flashback is just me making shit up, I have no idea what actual warfare is like, so don't come after me cause I got it wrong. I tried. This chapter took a lot of time for me to write cause I was trying to decide how to write that part, and also what to include and what not to include.

No one ever claimed that mental hospitals were very interesting. Every day is kind of the same. Get up, eat breakfast, take meds, group, then lunch and alone time, then more groups and dinner, then free time and bed. Same shit. On Bucky’s fourth day there, his doctor decided he should be on Wellbutrin instead of Sertraline. Which would be fine, except for the fact that he was taken off of Sertraline very suddenly. Bucky had tried explaining that Wellbutrin would not make up for the sudden drop of serotonin from missing a does of an SSRI because they’re too completely different fucking chemicals, but the med nurse just kind of looked at him funny and told him not to worry. He then proceeded to spend the next four days in an extremely depressed suicidal state. Fun.

By the time visitation day rolls around, Bucky is pretty dead. The other guys had tried to help him (Scott and Wade spent the whole time cracking jokes at Tony’s expense, and Bruce had tried engaging him in a couple games of chess) but Bucky remained indifferent, not even hearing their words. The only thing he really has to look forward to today is visitation. That’s essentially what’s getting him through this shit. His heart flutters a bit every time he thinks about it. He’s gonna see Steve! It’s been almost a week and Bucky misses him so, so much. Sure, nightly phone calls are great, but they can’t really compare to seeing each other in person.

It’s one now, must be just after lunch for them, and Steve is sitting nervously on a couch inside a large room, all setup with tables and chairs spread around for visiting families. As patients begin to be let into the room, all meeting up with their respective loved ones, Steve’s nervous excitement only gets worse. He misses Bucky so damn much and wants nothing more than to hold him, but at the same time, they need to talk about things. This is important and they can’t just keep ignoring this.

“Stevie.”

Steve looks up, immediately brightening up when he sees Bucky’s face. It also hurts him a little, because Bucky is looking debatably worse than when he came in. His hair is tangled, falling in sheets around his face, and he’s starting to grow some serious stubble. His shoulders are hunched a little, and though he looks happy to see Steve, his voice is soft and his eyes are dim.

“Oh no… Buck. God are you okay?”

He chuckles darkly, “no? Not really. But I’m surviving.”

Steve pats the seat beside him, inviting Bucky to sit as close as possible so that he can finally hold him.

“What happened Baby?”

Bucky spends a while describing Mountain View. He tells Steve about the daily routine, including the hours of isolation they have to have every day, and how Tony has been basically his only saving grace (he makes sure to mention the others though, because they’ve all been so supportive). He talks about the nights, and the bright hallway lights and the way the camera that sits in the corner keeps him up at night because being watched his one of his biggest fears. He describes the nightmares he has, all pertaining to his time spent in the military. He tells Steve about the medication change, and the sudden drop in serotonin and the side effects that came with it (Steve bristles at that, murmuring something about irresponsible doctors). By the time he is done talking, Steve is quietly carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair, gently combing out the knots.

“Bucky… do you think you’re getting better?”

Bucky sighs, “not really.”

It hurts Steve to hear that, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Buck… is there anything I did- that I didn’t do maybe- that contributed to this?”

Bucky sits up, turning to look him in the eye, “no Stevie, you’re perfect, don’t do this.”

Steve shakes his head, “I should have noticed Buck, I can’t help but think this is my fault. There’s gotta be something I did to make this happen.”

Steve could see Bucky’s eyes flickering with something, anger or sadness he couldn’t really tell.

“No.”

“But Bucky- I wasn’t there for you! This is my fault! You weren’t okay and I didn’t do anything! I should be doing something, I’ll make sure you’re not at home alone… and I’ll have to get you serious treatment after this.”

“Steve stop. I don’t want that. I’m just gonna go home and forget this ever happened.”

“But what if something else happens? What if you try something huh? What then?”

“I won’t.”

“How am I supposed to trust that… you ended up here because someone thought you might try something. I don’t wanna come home one day and find your dead body.”

“Steve.”

“Bu-”

“No! Shut the fuck up. Get off your damned high horse okay? My illness isn’t your fucking responsibility.”

“Bucky I-”

“No. Quit tiptoeing around this shit. You’ve been avoiding talking about this with me for days like I’m some kid who can’t make decisions. Just cause I’m depressed doesn’t mean I’m not still responsible for myself. Frankly Steve, when it comes to my health, you take charge as if I don’t know what I’m doing, and you’re kind of a condescending asshole. I know I’m kind of a fuckup okay but you’ve gotta work with me here not make all my decisions for me.”

“But how am I supposed to trust you after this… I’m just scared for you Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t answer, just looks away.

“Bucky I don’t know what I would do if I lost you… I can’t risk that happening.”

“I’m not gonna fucking kill myself Steve.”

“How am I supposed to know that!” He says, voice cracking.

“How about you just have some fucking faith in me!”

“But what happens if I do and something like this happens again, or worse?”

“It won’t.”

“That’s not good enough Buck.”

That’s kind of the last straw for Bucky. He turns away, not willing to let Steve see the tears brimming in his eyes. He knows he’s being unreasonable. He is well aware that with the way things have gone, it will be a while before he can be fully trusted again. And he knows it’s not personal, that it’s just for his safety. But he’s so tired, and just wants to go home and forget about all of this. He wants Steve to just pretend it never happened so they can go back to everything and even though he knows that can’t happen, he can’t bring himself to accept it.

“Just- go Steve,” he says when an MHA calls everyone to say goodbye because visitation is over.

He sighs, but places a kiss on top of Bucky’s head, “I love you…”

“Yeah, whatever Steve… Love you too.”

Steve left the room feeling heavy and numb.

There was a different MHA for group this time. Usually, group therapy involves Thor or Maria starting up a conversation and trying to engage the group, but also not forcing anyone to speak. But this time it’s some blonde lady. The discussion starts out alright, but it begins to move into darker territory.

She asks about why people are here, asks all the people who are comfortable to share their story in depth. A few of them are. Bruce goes in depth on his anger issues, and how he nearly killed the guy who hurt his friend’s sister. Most don’t say anything, so she starts to call on people. That’s how it begins. She gives insight on each story, but for the most part it isn’t anything helpful, just judgemental inquiries and unhelpful comments. The way she speaks makes it sound like every one of them is stupid for what they’ve gone through, or that it’s their fault.

“James, would you like to share?”

“It’s Bucky.”

“Well that’s not what’s on your sheet.”

“I won’t respond to anything but Bucky.”

He’s already fuming from how she’s been treating everyone, but he doesn’t say much else.

“Well would you like to share your story with us James?”

“Stop calling me that.”

Tony speaks up, “um, I’d like to share,” he interjects, hoping to move the spotlight off of Bucky, who is shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Sure Tony, but after James says something.”

Bucky shakes his head, he doesn’t want to go into it. Because he knows once he launches into the story, he’ll be sucked into it, and he’s not sure he can bring himself out of those memories.

“James I need you to speak, if you don’t participate we’ll have to put you on UR.”

Shakily, Bucky looks up at her, and reluctantly begins to speak, feeling the concerned eyes of his friends on him, “I- I was in the army for a while… I got injured, lost a friend. That’s it.”  
Just remembering it is making him shake.

“James I’m gonna need you to say more than that.”

But Bucky is too far gone, transported back to that day.

***

The sounds of gunfire ring around them. James Buchanan Barnes is kneeling in the dust behind a stone building. They’ve been at this since dawn, making no progress in moving any further in the territory. He’d run into one of the opposition just a few minutes earlier behind this same building. It had caught him by surprise, and before he knew what was happening he was backed up to a wall with a gun to his chest. He’d been sure he was a goner, but suddenly the guy is pulled off of him and there’s a sickening crunch as he’s shoved against the wall, and a boom as a bullet is put through his head.

Bucky stares at the dead body, not bothering to notice who just saved him. God… It’s just a kid. He couldn’t be more than 17 or 18, but here he is, brains blown out in the back of some abandoned restaurant in the middle of a warzone.

“Hey, I know he’s just a kid but you gotta get up Bucky, we’re vulnerable out here.”

Bucky looks up to see the concerned face of one Jim Morita. They’ve been serving together for a while, and Bucky would trust this man with his life. Bucky shakes his head, he knows he can’t afford to be distracted by this right now.

They make their way towards another abandoned building, trying not to look at the corpses littering the ground. Some of them are US soldiers, but most are the enemy. A lot of those bodies are just kids, barely out of puberty, some not even that old. It makes Bucky sick to his stomach.

He doesn’t notice the grenade for half a second; it’s not enough time. He can see the moment it explodes, the panic in Morita’s face as they try to outrun the blast. When it’s over his ears are ringing, and there is a searing pain in his left arm. There’s a heavy weight on top of him. He pushes Morita off, clutching his arm, which had taken a load of shrapnel, and broke under the weight of the other man.

Morita.

Bucky looks over at Morita. He almost vomits. Morita took most of the blast, he’s barely alive, and his skin is burnt. Bucky can smell it from where he sits, the scent of burning human flesh. Bucky desperately tries to save him, picking him up carefully to drag him the rest of the way to the building, but it’s too late. Before he even gets him off the ground, Morita is gone, a dead weight on Bucky’s remaining arm, and he has to drop him to the ground because he’s out in the open now. He looks back one more time at his friend, now one of many corpses littering the ground, before running towards their initial destination. That day, Bucky nearly bleeds out on the battlefield before the fight is over.

***

Tony is really starting to get worried. Bucky is shaking now, clearly not paying attention to the group discussion. (Most people aren’t at this point, either too wrapped up in their own heads or too angry to say anything. The few who are still participating are only doing so tentatively, so as not to put pressure on the others.) Bucky’s got his knees pulled up tight to his chest, hugging himself. He’s clearly lost in something, and there are silent tears running down his face. On Bucky’s other side, Bruce looks just as worried as Tony feels. //Given the situation they’re in right now, Tony completely understands. It’s taking a lot not to go back to his habit of picking at the scars littering his forearms, to not pick them open and watch the blood bubble up.// But he has to focus on Bucky right now.

He feels the tight grip of Bucky’s hand on his wrist. He doesn’t try to move, knowing that Bucky is trying to ground himself in the present.

“Hey, no physical contact guys,” he hears from the blonde lady.

It’s Bruce that speaks up, voice seething, “all due respect ma’am, he needs to be grounded.”

“I’m sorry Bruce, but it’s just hospital policy.”

Bruce turns a little red, “then at least let him leave.”

“I can’t do that either, therapy’s not done for another 15 minutes.”

Oh shit. Bruce really isn’t happy now. He stands up, “I don’t give a shit what hospital policy is, he’s suffering just get him out of here!”

“Bruce you need to calm down…” Tony says quietly, but Bruce is already starting.

“You can’t do this to him! The treatment here is dogshit and you’re just making him suffer!”

He’s walking towards the lady now, and before he’s processed the situation, there are two other MHAs on Bruce, holding him back.

“Hey, let me go! I’m not gonna do anything!”

They don’t let him go. He’s dragged away, leaving the rest of the group quiet. One of the nurses enters, approaching Bucky. She grabs him roughly by the arm, and Bucky hisses in pain, “look James, I’m taking you out of here okay? I just need you to get up.”

Tony can feel the anger coming from Wade and Scott, and even Pietro is staring at the situation, anger flickering in his eyes. But Bucky doesn’t do anything, just gets up and lets the nurse lead him out. Tony tries to get up, and follow him but the nurse stops him.

Later, when the group has ended, Tony finds Bruce passed out heavily on his bed. They must have tranquilized him when they dragged him out.

No one sees Bucky until dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a lil disappointed with this ending so I may or may not come back and write a better one- guess we'll see.

“Steve misses you a lot you know.”

Bucky’s sitting in the visitation room again. When he had first entered he was nervous to see Steve again, but instead Sam and Natasha were there to greet him, leaving him with a mix of disappointment and relief.

“I know.”

“You should talk to him.”

“I know.”

Sam gives a pointed look to Natasha, silently telling her to knock it off for a bit.

“How’s it been in here man? I heard some stuff from Steve.”

Bucky looks up at Sam, “it’s been pretty dogshit in here, Sam. I don’t know what to tell you.”

He can see the look of concern that flashes across Sam’s face.

“What happened?”

To name all of the things wrong with this place would take forever, he could practically write a book about how dogshit it is in here. Instead, he simply describes life inside Mountain View as best he can. He skips over the details about his panic attack in group the day before, and the news of what happened to Bruce that Tony had told him when they got to dinner that evening. It’s all really fucked up. To be perfectly honest, Bucky isn’t sure how he feels about it. On one hand, he knows he should be really angry. Hell, he is really angry, but the anger is just like a burning coal in the back of his mind, masked by a numbness he can’t really describe.

By the end of the story, Sam has placed a hand on Bucky’s knee, and Natasha’s just glaring at the wall. Natasha is a nurse at a hospital near by. She’s heard about Mountain View obviously, and was rightfully pissed when she heard that Bucky was there. She’d been trying to call him since she heard, so has Sam, but neither of them made any real progress, so they opted instead just to show up on visitation day and pray they let them in.

Bucky’s missed them a lot, and he knows he should be happy to see them. He is, he really is glad they’ve come to visit him, but his heart’s not in the conversation.

“Bucky… do you want to see Steve?”

Bucky looks up at this, “is he here?”

Nat smiles, “yeah, you wanna see him? We can leave now.”

Bucky nods, “I’m sorry guys…”

“No trouble man, he’s been dying to see you.”

Bucky feels affection bloom in his chest at that. No matter how mad he gets at Steve, no matter the petty argument, thinking about the man just makes him happy.

Sam and Nat leave him alone there, but not for long. Within a few minutes, Steve is coming into the room, and it takes a lot of willpower not to just jump into his arms right there. Steve looks like he is straining with the effort as well. As soon as Steve comes to sit down next to Bucky, Bucky is already his arms, leaning into his side, burying his face in Steve’s neck.

“I miss you so fucking much,” Bucky says, though it’s slightly muffled from the position he’s in.

Steve nods, running deft fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“Me too. I can’t wait to have you home. Cap misses you a lot.”

Steve doesn’t say anything when he feels the warm splash of tears against his skin. Instead, he holds Bucky closer. They stay like this for a few minutes, just holding on. Eventually, Bucky lets go, and Steve doesn’t mention anything about the slight redness in his eyes, or the barely audible sniffle in his breathing.

“What happened Bucky? I heard it wasn’t going well from Sam and Nat, but they said you would give me the details.”

Bucky nods, launching into his story. This time, he says everything. Describes the details of what happened during group therapy the other day, and what they did to Bruce. He talks about Tony and some of the other patients, mentioning how their solidarity is really what’s been getting him through. He mentions the good MHAs, Thor and Maria, and how helpful they are despite their limited positions. By the end of it, Steve isn’t looking at him, he’s just staring at the floor. But Bucky can see the way his tendons stand out against his wrists, and the impatient tapping of his foot. Steve tries not to get angry, and he’s very good at not showing it, but Bucky’s known him since they were kids. He can read him like a damn book.

“Look Steve, I’m sorry for what I said last time. You’re right, I need to earn back trust instead of demanding it. I want you to be able to trust me.”

Steve noticably relaxes, “it’s fine Buck, I was a little unreasonable too. But we’ll work through this.”

Bucky gives a small smile, “together?”

“Together.”

Steve smiles broadly, wrapping his arm tightly around Bucky, “I’ve got some pictures for you. I took Cap to the park yesterday, and I took a couple pics. I thought I’d print them out to give you.”

Again, that familiar feeling of warm affection for this man arises, and Bucky can’t help the grin that plasters itself across his face. He takes the pictures that Steve has produced from his back pocket. The first one is of Cap playing with another dog, it’s a black lab, Natasha’s dog, Winter. The second picture is of Cap sniffing curiously at a pinecone, looking a little startled when it pokes him in the nose. The third is of Steve and Nat, smiling into the camera. There’s a note scribbled on the back of this one, it reads: miss you Bucky! Can’t wait to have you back home!.

Bucky looks at Steve to find him already staring, fondness clear in his eyes. God, he loves this man so fucking much. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for him.

Bucky grips Steve’s hand, “you’re amazing. I love you.”

Steve pulls him into a tight hug, “I love you too Buck.”

___

“You’ve been doing really well Bucky, I think you’re looking at discharge soon.”

Bucky stares at the doctor in surprise, “are you serious?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

If Bucky fails to mention the incident with the Panic attack earlier that week, nobody notices.

“I think you’ll probably discharge around Friday. Sound good?”

Bucky nods, already burning with anticipation. It’s Wednesday now.

The rest of the week is a waiting game. Every activity and meal has him bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet. It’s like torture. By now, most of his friends have already discharged. Tony left on Tuesday, Bruce was transferred to a different unit, and Wade and Scott had left the same day as his incident during group therapy. There are a couple of incidents where Bucky has to walk away to avoid inciting a conflict with a staff member. One where a nurse told Pietro he could drink toilet water when he asked for a drink. Another where an MHA spoke about abuse as if it were normal, and encouraged the idea that they were all just being dramatic, and they should just take it because that’s what you do. You should love your parents no matter what, she said, they provide for you so they can do what they want, the same with domestic partners. That one had his arm itching to throw a punch at her face, but the knowledge of his upcoming discharge kept him silently fuming in his seat.

It’s Friday now, and Bucky is dying from the anticipation. He doesn’t bother to greet new faces coming into the hospital, instead he impatiently waits around. He’s already gotten his discharge order this morning, and now it’s just a matter of time until Steve arrives in their little blue car, ready to take him home.

“James for discharge,” a nurse says during lunch.

There is a chorus of “goodbye” and “I’d better not see you back here” from his peers, but he’s too excited to acknowledge them, he simply waves back and follows the nurse back to the unit to gather his belongings.

Soon he’s in Steve’s arms, holding him so tightly, he’s not entirely sure Steve can still breathe. But he doesn’t care, because he’s out, he’s back, he’s fucking free. The evening is kind of a blur, there’s a long car ride back to their shared apartment, where Nat and Sam and their oddball neighbor Mr. Fury are waiting for him with a box of oatmeal cream pies and Mission Impossible on demand.

____

It’s a couple of months later when he runs into Tony in a coffee shop. They converse, and Steve gets to meet the guy who kept Bucky sane through those two weeks at Mountain View. They exchange numbers, and end up close friends. Bucky’s recovery is not at all smooth. There are still breakdowns and sobbing here and there, and Bucky sometimes has dreams that he’s back in Mountain View, only to find Steve sleeping by his side, grounding him in reality. But he is recovering. It’s no thanks to Mountain View, rather, it’s the strong friendships he made with people he met there, and the constant support from his loved ones that keeps him going. It’s not perfect, sure, and it probably never will be, but it’s doable, and that’s all he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> Criticize me- god knows I need it. Just be nice please?


End file.
